


The Other Half of Things

by zeleanorfics



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, F/M, Oral Sex, metions of Liam, one direction - Freeform, zeleanor - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-07
Updated: 2014-12-07
Packaged: 2018-02-28 10:57:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2729867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zeleanorfics/pseuds/zeleanorfics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eleanor misses the bus by barely anything and Zayn decides to take her home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Other Half of Things

**Author's Note:**

> (based of a prompt I saw on otpprompts on tumblr:  
> Imagine one part of your OTP is standing at a bus stop really late at night trying to catch the last bus. Then, when the bus finally comes, they just go right past and don’t stop at all! Now they are stranded. But the other half of your OTP was driving by just then and saw it happen. They stop and offer a ride…)

The thing Eleanor had to have hated the most about working on the weekends was the bus. God forbid she needed the car on the weekend. But Sophia’s always, “But I can only see him on the weekend! Please just let me borrow the car!” and, who would Eleanor even be if she told that puffy faced angel no?

She had begun to walk towards the bus stop early, and even had her money ready. She could do this. She could totally forget about how the last time she rode the bus that old lady’s dog threw up on her lap after she asked to pet it. (She hates terriers now.)

The point was; the bus was gross and smelled like feet, very much unlike her car. Which is most likely why Sophia wants to borrow the car instead of riding the bus now that she thinks of it. Sophia had always said she was afraid of being near too many people at once but the more Eleanor tries to reason that excuse the more confused she gets.

She shakes her head, throwing any further thoughts about her comfy car out of the metaphorical window. No point in thinking about the things you can’t have (or, in this case, access).

She trudges up to the stop, and looks around, no one else in sight except the people driving on the roads. Which is strange for a Saturday evening. Usually there would be so many people she’d have to wait in a line. But, strangely enough, there were none? 

She began to become annoyed quickly. If she missed the bus she’d be pissy all night, and would have to throw many a fits once Sophia got back Sunday night.

She flicks her thick, chestnut hair out of her eyes, and positions herself against the wind, so her hair will blow off of her face. She flinches in her skinnes as her cell sends a vibration down her legs. “Jezze...” She mumbles, yanking her phone out, and checking her notifications immediately. It reads, “don’t forget to pick up walker”, and it’s from Soph. “Shit!” She whispers underneath her breath.

Sophia had dropped off Walker at the kennel last night and El was supposed to pick him up after work. She knew the kennel would charge more if she left him there overnight, and she also knew she’d miss the bus if she went back to get him. The kennel was at least twenty blocks from the stop.

El glanced around, searching for any sign of a bus. And, nothing. She had begun to think she might’ve missed it after all. Which, with her luck, wouldn’t be all that shocking. She sighed loudly, and pocketed her phone again. “Fucking, Sophia!” She shouts to herself, and begins walking in the direction she had come from in an angry sort of stomping fashion. If she wasn’t 20 she’d be told off for acting like a three year old.

She counts her footsteps as she walks down the grey sidewalk for about a minute before stopping abruptly. She hears the sound of some large brakes stopping. 

She whips around quickly, almost giving herself whiplash, and there it is. The bus. The damned bus.

"Christ,” she mumbles before running towards the bus, well, maybe not running since Eleanor can’t run for shit. It’s more like a fast jog, at the most even. She takes a sigh of relief as she closes in on the door to the bus. Well, she did. She yelps as the door closes right in front of her. Like it was planned. She bangs on the door with a small fist and scoffs as it drives away, leaving Eleanor in its dust. The driver must’ve been positively radiating evil to do something like this.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” She yelps, sounding like a hurt animal. A tiny animal. A mouse maybe. A mouse with tits. 

She sighs in defeat, and turns her body completely around, almost contemplating on face planting into the concrete below her. She doesn’t because she just got her teeth whitened and chipping them would be horrible, but still. It’s the thought that counts anyways. 

“Hey!” She hears being shouted from somewhere behind her. She turns slowly, almost shouting ‘fuck you’ to whoever wanted to talk to her, but once again she doesn’t. She sees a man step out of his dark coloured car, which is parked on the curb next to her (Eleanor doesn’t know what kind of car it is and couldn’t tell you with a gun pointed to her head. Cars aren’t exactly El’s “thing”). And, okay? The guys really hot and Eleanor would’ve definitely regretted saying fuck you if she had.

His hair is as dark as his car, and so is his leather jacket thing-y. He looks punk. Save for the marvel T-Shirt underneath his jacket. He looks like he’d fight anyone yet own a comic book collection. Even hotter actually, now that she thinks about it.

Eleanor opens her mouth to answer him, to reply with something nice and normal like, “Yeah?” (because “Yes, beautiful stranger?” would be too freaky), but nothing came out of her mouth. Except maybe air. Not because she got nervous or anything. The man just cut her off.

“You missed the bus?” He asks, like he didn’t see that. Like he doesn’t already know. Clearly he does. He points off towards the direction the bus just drove off in. Like he’s taunting her with the fact that she now has to walk twenty blocks south then a mile or two back north.

She watches him carefully though, his mouth moving like some weird type of angel. “Um, yeah. It kind of, just, drove away. Or something.” She speaks out. Words forming in her mouth weird so they kind of taste like dumbness. He nods though. His hair bouncy and full of life as he does this.

He tucks his hands in his pockets and rocks back on his heels like he wants to say something but doesn’t all at once. And Eleanor is very familiar with that feeling. She lifts an arm up and points behind her in the direction she’s supposed to go to pick up Walker. “Okay. Well, lovely conversation. But, I’ve got to start walking now if I’m gonna get home before midnight, so…” She informs the man and turns around so fast she twirls and stumbles a bit. But, she recovers quickly, setting off immediately.

“-Wait!” The man shouts, voice getting louder, and a bit higher. Like he got kicked in the nuts a bit. It’s a funny thing to imagine, Eleanor thinks, she almost wants to nut-punch the beautiful man herself for distracting her for this long.

“Yes?” She asks with an exasperated sigh, and she chuckles after turning back to face him. He looks like a cartoon. His arm out like when he said “wait” he was reaching for her, and his eyes are bulged out wide, like he couldn’t believe he said it.

“That’s my car.” He states, pointing back at it over his shoulder, expression almost comical. He’s serious? Like Eleanor cared about his car, like Eleanor needed to know this. “Wonderful? Four tires and all?” She asks, tone light and joking. Just in case he’s sensitive or something stupid like that. He looks back at it, then returns to looking at Eleanor. “Yeah. Uh, no. Well, yes, but I meant, if you need to be somewhere I could take you or something?” 

“Or something?” She asks, still playing around. Well, c’mon you can't blame her. A random man asks to give you a ride ‘or something’ and she’s supposed to agree immediately and thank him profusely? No. Well, he’s hot, but still.

“No. Just a ride, I mean, I saw that damn bus leave you so I thought you could use a ride. You can say no, you don’t know me or anything I just felt bad is all.” He explains quickly, like he’s afraid she’s gonna laugh at him or something. She does but still.

She chuckles humorlessly, face scrunched up jokingly still. “No thanks, I don’t wanna interrupt your probably very interesting and busy life. I have two destinations, it would put you out of your way anyways.” She answers easily, yanking her shirt sleeves down so they’ll cover her arms. The air is just getting chillier every second. 

The man jumps in at that. “Do you need a jacket?” he asks, already beginning to strip his off of him. She throws her hands out, stopping him with a strained laugh. “No! Keep your jacket on sir. I am A Okay!” She yells as convincing as possible, even though she knows she could be at the kennel already by now.

“Zayn. M’Zayn.” He tells her, sticking his hand out for her to shake. Very polite. She takes it, though it’s a little strange. Strangeness doesn’t override his hotness, fortunately. She smiles nonetheless, and sighs. “I am Eleanor. Hello, nice to meet you Zayn. Now, if you’ll excuse me-"

“It’ll be no trouble I swear.” He is basically begging. Does he seriously feel that awful about her missing the freaking bus? It’s not the end of the world. Though something inside of her (her colon maybe) told her to just go. 

Before she knew it she was in Zayn's car. It was warm and comfortable, the seats fluffed with a lot of padding. It smelled like Clive Christian, not some shitty Macy’s Justin Bieber shit. Eleanor doesn’t even think JB has stuff for men, but whatever. The point stands. Everything about this guy was expensive. (God, he looked like he was carved of gorgeous stone from billions of years ago. Stone you’d only find in Le Louvre.)

“Where to Miss Eleanor?” He asks, a smile in his tone but not exactly on his face. It was more of a twitch of the lips. Which was hilariously regular, but still. It looked good on him. “Uh I have to go to St Peters Kennel first. It’s like, twenty and a half blocks that way.” She points behind them, and Zayn follows her hand with his eyes before nodding. 

“So…” She says as he begins to make a U-Turn to go in the correct direction. Which is helpful. 

“So?” He asks, pushing her to finish, or start or whatever. 

“So, why are you doing this? I’m perfectly capable of walking. I’m not like, crippled or anything.” She pushes, needing an answer to this because she doesn’t know what’s weirder. A hot stranger begging to give her a ride to her destination, or that stranger refusing to tell her why.

Like, it would probably haunt her for the rest of her life if this was some random thing that happened and she never finds out why. Eleanor doesn’t like being haunted by strange memories.

“I felt bad. And you looked pretty pissed after the bus drove off, I thought I could help.” He glances at her as they stop at their first red light. She watches his face cautiously, searching for treachery. None was detected but still, caution was the virtue in this particular case. “Well I was literally at the door what the fuck? I definitely made it on time and he totally drove off on purpose!” She answers, an irritated chuckle following her sentence.

“Dog or cat?” He asks, driving forward as the traffic light flickers to green. “What?” She asks, confused for only a split second, then her slow brain catches up with her. “Oh, at the kennel. It’s actually a rat. I collect them.” She answers breezily. Her face completely serious and she even looks him in the eyes. She honestly can't believe he fell for it, seriously. 

His face scrunches up, and he looks back at the road. “You collect…rats? Why?” He asks, slightly grossed out and she can tell by the sudden slowness in his voice. Like he’s being cautious now. “I like how they smell. Haven't you ever sniffed a rat’s skin fur before?” She looks at him incredulously, like he was insane.

He scoffs, “What? No I’ve never fucking sniffed a damn rat before that’s gross innit? That’s pretty fucking weird. Do they even allow rats at the kennel?” He asks his face screwed up in a disgusted expression permanently now. 

“You fucking idiot.” She laughs to herself, and she covers her face with her hands, almost sobbing into them. Her lungs expand faster as her laughs get louder and louder, like she can't handle this. Which, honestly she almost can't. 

He stops in front of the kennel finally, and he puts his car in park while staring her down with this glare. And she’s just losing it. “What you just made that up? What-why? What was the point of that?” He asks, his voice returning to what is was originally, lighter, more relaxed than when he thought she collected rats.

“God!” She yells, wiping the tears of joy away, and finally breathing in a full breath of air. “Because! It was funny!” She laughs again, grabbing onto her stomach, trying to sooth the ache there. “No it wasn’t!” He yells after her, beginning to laugh himself. And it was beautiful. Almost insulting. 

He had these freaky crinkles around his eyes and his mouth opened wide and only joy left it. It was horribly gorgeous and rude of him actually. 

She opens her passenger door without saying anything else to him. She might as well just get Walker and go. The faster she’s out of this car the better anyways. St Peters Kennel was this small, one story building that is cramped and always smelled like dog shit, which is why Eleanor refuses to take Walker here, and only Sophia would pull such a devious crime like this (and it’s due to her unfortunate laziness).

Eleanor uses all of her upper arm strength to push open the heavy metal-type doors to the kennel, and takes a deep breath afterwards. Eleanor is too tiny for this honestly. The man behind the counter is balding and has an attitude. 

He tells Eleanor that she is ten minutes late about seven times, and keeps insisting on her waiting for help to carry Walker’s case and food. She rolls her eyes, and groans at the man before he can get another word out of his tight lipped mouth.

“Listen, guy, I don’t have time to get “help” or whatever just, shut up and let me get my dog! Okay?” She asks, and it’s one hundred thousand percent rhetorical, but the man decides to answer anyways. “Fine. But I’m not helping you if you drop anything…” 

The man walks behind some weird see through screen thing, and hopefully she will be getting her damn dog now. 

“Everything okay?” She turns around and sees the stranger (slash personal driver). She rolls her eyes and thrusts her hand out towards the place the freaky balding worker disappeared off to. “That asshole wants to make things difficult and what is that smell!? I hate this fucking place.” She complains to Zayn like its natural. Which is ironic since they just met but, anyways.

Zayn scoffs, and looks Eleanor up and down quickly. “You could leave if you want.” She tells him, and leans herself up against the counter. Which is super gross since they probably don’t clean it here.

He shakes his head. “It’s fine. It’ll probably only be a minute more anyways.” He smiles at her after that. Which is strange to say the very least because why the fuck is he so happy about helping her. If Eleanor were him she wouldn’t have even volunteered, let alone stay this long.

“Whatever mister pleasantville.” She smiles back, except hers is supposed to contradict her words on purpose. “Here.” The gross man says, entering the lobby again, and this time a little blonde Maltese puppy in his hands. 

“Walker!” Eleanor shouts happily, taking the wiggly little doggy. She smiles wide, feeling the dog’s joy fill her as well. He barks happily, trying to lick El’s face (which she guards, and protects well).

“Here’s its food and carrier.” He says, sliding the items on the counter, looking at Eleanor expectantly, like he knows she won't be able to do this. “Can I help you?” He asks Zayn, and he looks confused. Like Zayn's lost. Which makes sense because if Eleanor saw him in here she'd be a little confused as well. This place definitely isn’t good enough for him (or at least the image she has of him).

Zayn grabs the carrier and food without missing a beat. He cocks his head towards Eleanor with a polite smile. “I’m with her.” He answers, and meets Eleanor’s eyes. And what the hell. It’s totally not fair because Eleanor didn’t notice that he has perfect eyeballs too. 

Who the hell has perfect eyeballs?! They’re brown with light flecks of green and there’s even a deep sense to them. Like if she stares too long she might fall into them. Like they’re tiny black holes.

He turns and walks to the door that had previously tried to crush Eleanor, and he holds it open for her effortlessly. Which isn’t anything special since anyone on this Earth is stronger than Eleanor, so. He gets no brownie points for this.

She walks out, her sandals clicking underneath her, and Walker shaking with understandable joy in her arms. She remembers reading something about how like, dogs think that once you leave them you’re never coming back or something and that their heart like swells at the sight of their family. Eleanor doesn’t know if that’s exactly true but she knows it would be a pain in the ass for the dog if it was.

It must be excruciating when dogs are alone and their heart like deflates or something like that. Sounds weird and painful.

Eleanor kisses her pup on the head gently and places him inside of his carrier and then inside of Zayn's backseat. “Thanks.” Eleanor mumbles to Zayn as he sets the dogs food in the back as well. He nods to her from across the vehicle.

Walker barks wildly from his crate, and he eyes Eleanor from the back at the same time. Almost saying, “bitch I know you can see me! How dare you leave me back here to rot!” it’s very, very funny. Reminds Eleanor of the rat thing.

She glances at Zayn as he pulls out of the tight parking spot in front of the kennel. “You thought I really had a rat.” She chuckles, her mouth automatically forming a grin. He glares at her while watching the road. “Shut up, you sounded serious.” He justifies, his lips jut out in a pout.

“I live on Charles Street.” She says while reaching into the backseat and tapping on Walker’s cage softly. This makes the pup yip wildly and Eleanor can't help but smile. “Do you really or are you fucking with me again?” He asks, rolling his perfect eyeballs. “What would I be doing that for? I’d get nothing out of it this time.” She smirks, tone light and happy.

+

“Thanks for the uh, ride. And helping me with my dog’s stuff. And stuff.” Eleanor says kicking her front door open, and letting Walker loose inside the house. He kicks off of her and jumps towards, where ever. She takes the other things from Zayn, not wanting him inside. He’s still a stranger technically.

“You’re very welcome Miss Eleanor.” He smiles like he’s really happy about this whole ordeal. Which he might be, she doesn’t really know him. She fumbles over yanking the keys out of her door, and balancing the food at the same time, but she manages without collapsing at least, which is convenient. “Do you need me to-" “No, no!” She answers so fast she thinks her voice might’ve gotten a strain. If that even makes sense.

He flinches at her shouting, and nods along still, but watches her like she might be dropping the stuff and he might have to come to her rescue once again. She wonders if he gets off on the hero title. Hot.

The creepy staring thing they’ve got going on is cut short. A car door slams shut very loudly behind them, and they both turn, looking for the cause of the noise. “Sophia?” Eleanor calls out, faced scrunched up in confusion. Sophia was stomping up towards the house in her heels, and she didn’t exactly look joyful.

She stomps her way all the way up to the entrance door, her face puffed up into a deep, imprinting scowl. She looks like someone just offended her mother. “Soph-" Eleanor begins, but Sophia shoves her way past her roommate, and into their shared home. Eleanor scoffs and glances into the house, trying to see if she can still see her friend, but all she sees is an empty foyer and a yapping dog.

“Who was she?” Zayn asks, and if it’s possible, Eleanor forgot he was even there for a moment or two. “Uh. That was my roommate Sophia. She was supposed to be in London meeting up with her boyfriend, but- I don’t know.” Eleanor answers, a stress crease forming in between her eyebrows.

Zayn reaches forward and runs his pointer finger down the crease line. “Shouldn’t do that. You’ll get wrinkles haven't you heard?” He smiles, and so does Eleanor. She knows he's just trying to lighten the mood, which is nice considering he doesn’t know her and doesn’t have to.

“I’ve gotta check on her, anyways, thanks again Mister Pleasantville.” She nods at him, and slowly makes her way inside, closing her door gently afterwards. She flicks the foyer light on, and watches the front of the house light up, the white tiles sparkling up at her. Which is fantastic since she paid almost a grand to get them all cleaned (no thanks to Sophia).

Speaking of the devil. “There you fucking are!” Sophia shouts, pushing the kitchen bar stool away from herself and the island. “Sorry mum, I tried to get back before curfew.” She replies sarcastically, rolling her eyes in return to Sophia’s annoyed huffs. 

Eleanor drops the food onto the granite island, and finally takes this blessed opportunity to wrap her hair up into a thick bun. “Now. Mrs. Smith. Would you care to tell me what happened?” Eleanor muses, thinking she might’ve just gotten a parking ticket, or dropped her new phone.

“Liam fucking dumped me!” She shouts, her anger quickly transforming into tears, and racked sobs. “He said I was too demanding?! What the fuck does that mean?! How can that even be true!?” She screams, and Eleanor’s heart hurts for her friend. She loves Sophia like a sister, and when she’s in pain Eleanor might as well be.

“Oh Soph…” She whispers, holding her arms out to her. Sophia’s shoulders shake with emotion and Eleanor lets her cry all over her nice top. What else are friends for anyways?

+

“What the-" Eleanor asks to herself as she reaches down and picks up her discarded skinnes, and tosses them aside. She picks up a small piece of paper that fell from the back pocket of them. Hmm, curious. 

She tries to think about what she could’ve needed to know that was so important enough to write down but not important enough that she didn’t put it in her phone. And she’s at a loss.

She sits down on the side of the tub and unfolds the thing quickly. She doesn’t recognize the handwriting or anything dumb like that but she knows who it’s from. Somehow the hot stranger slipped his phone number into her back pocket without her knowing. Which is odd since Eleanor usually has a six sense for that stuff. Like, usually she can feel people behind her and stuff. Most people can. So when did this happen exactly?

She scoffs and crosses her legs in thought. 

Should she keep it? Does he really expect her to call him? That’d be one awkward conversation. “Hey um, it’s Eleanor. The random girl you picked up at the station? Yeah, that Eleanor! Yeah hi, I don’t know you’re work schedule or anything but wanna meet up and do something random and strange?” Eleanor wasn’t going to call him. Originally.

She does anyways. Why? She can't even begin to explain. She had thought this whole thing was dumb and pointless, but it turns out she’s not had a proper relationship in three or some odd years and thinks maybe this could at least be something for a short period of time. Maybe he was fun when he wasn’t being heroic?

She’s sitting crisscrossed on her bed a week after finding the number, and she almost thinks it’s been too long to call him. What if he’s forgotten by now and is with some slag? Eleanor's slightly conflicted to say the least.

A whole hour of “what ifs” and “buts” later she finally grows the pair she’ll never have and dials his stupid phone number. Can phone numbers be perfect too? 

“Hello?” And, fuck. She hears a man’s voice and she can barely remember if that’s what his sounded like and she almost hangs up, but it’d be quite strange to ring him up, hang up on him, then ring him back two minutes later, so.

“Um. Hi. I think you might’ve left your number in my skinnies.” She says, and she can hear the echo of her voice over the line, almost like she was on speaker. And she might've been for all she knows. She hears him basically chuckle over the scratchy line, and she wants to claw her own throat out.

“Eleanor.” And it’s not like a question or anything, he's just saying her name to say it or something. “That would be the one. So? Was there a particular reason you fondled my ass to stick your number in there or did you just go for it?” He laughs all hardy and loud and she's proud of herself for that.

“Fondled?! Pfft, hardly.” He brushes her comment off easy, which is impressive. She leans back on her bed and lies down, her hair fanned out around her. “I was afraid you lost it in the wash for a while there.” She smiles to herself, this is promising. He was hoping. 

“Well, Superman, I didn’t. In fact I was just about to frame it right now.” “Were you now?” “I was, but now that I’ve called I think the novelty has worn off. You might have to drop by and impress me some more.” She’s positively mental. 

She hasn’t even stalked him on the internet to find out what he's actually like. And she won't be able to until she gets a last name. Which, would be quite handy so she doesn’t blindly search all the Zayn's on Facebook, and she can't very well Google him without a last name, unless she tries typing “Zayn from Manchester” and pray he pops up (which is dumb).

“Lucky you, I was about to save an old lady’s cat from a tree.” She can basically hear his smile, and she hates every decision she's ever made in her entire life. How dare him. How. Dare. Him.

“Hmm, sounds promising.” “So when should I drop by?” Half of her knows this is a date, and the other half thinks this is a joke still. She would normally go for broke and keep the joke going but what would be the point this time? She involuntarily begins to twirl a long strand of her hair, and it’s so disgustingly young of her but, it’s not on purpose! It just happens.

“When are you free?” 

+

Eleanor’s heart is positively convulsing. Just like the rest of her actually. She’s never been nervous to go on a damned date before! But Sophia’s psyched her out so much in the past couple days it’s been this weird excruciating experience actually. (“What if you trip and fall in your heels?” “What if you throw up from nervousness?” “What if a pigeon shits on your head before you get in his car?”) Let it not be said that Sophia was a good friend.

Eleanor’s giving herself final preparations like, making her hair fluffier, and making sure she’s showing the right amount of cleavage in this top (she is, by the way). She almost begins on a new task before Sophia calls out to her. “El-ah-noooor!” She calls, emphasis on everything. She almost cringes at that. What if Zayn thinks that because she has a crazy roommate that makes her crazy too (well…). She sighs, stuffing her tits back in her top quickly before setting off downstairs, her heels clacking the whole time.

In the light of the foyer Zayn looks like a sculpture almost (one she’d never be able to afford even if she saved up for a hundred years). He’s got a sharp jawline, covered in a short, deep black beard. (Not exactly a beard like long and nasty but not exactly short or thin enough to be called stubble).

He glances up towards the sound of her walking down, his eyes bright and joyful. He looks young and happy. Such a hot look on him, honestly. Once reaching the bottom of the wooden stairs he reaches out for her hand, gently. She quirks an eyebrow at him.

He pulls her hand up towards his mouth and he kisses it. It’s quick and polite, but Eleanor absolutely loves it. “Well, Prince Charming tonight aren’t we?” She asks, and it’s only halfway a joke. C’mon. Just look at him! All cleaned and trimmed, it’s a beautiful sight to behold. 

“Keep joking Lois Lane.” He quips, and once again, a beautiful sight to behold. She just loves a man that can play along with her and so far he's been wonderful at that (even though she’s basically just met the man).

“Bye Soph!” Eleanor shouts behind her as Zayn leads her towards the door. Sophia lolls her head towards Eleanor’s direction with a roll of the eyes. “Hope you have just a lovely time!” She yells back in an annoyed tone. Liam dumping her was really just a toll on Sophia (which is funny since he was such a tool).

His car is just the way it was a week ago, same smells, same looks, and same feeling. Which is a good sign that she didn’t imagine that whole thing she guesses. 

The Theatre is huge, and wide, and looks like it could seat a billion people (not literal, obviously. She didn’t fail maths that hard). She knew Zayn would like stuff like this. She may know little to nothing about him, but she could just tell he was the type. He already looked like he came straight from the runway so the whole “artsy” thing fit him like a glove.

He gave their tickets to a man in front of the entrance doors, and the man nodded at him like he knew him. Which, wouldn’t be all that shocking if he did, Zayn's seats were amazing. They were up in a luxury box near stage right and Eleanor could get used to the theatre maybe. Though she admits she’s never exactly imagined herself here, she could try.

Zayn places a soft hand on her lower back, guiding them towards their seats. Conveniently enough there was only about ten or thirteen other people near them in the box. “How much did this cost?” She asks quietly, turning her head back slightly to get a look at him. He shushes her and they finally sit down, the seats a lot more comfortable than she could’ve imagined.

“I thought Batman was the rich one?” Eleanor asks, looking at him with an intense stare, like she was serious or something dumb like that. “Batman wishes.” He brushes it off easy, a grin on his face. And it’s… sickening. Eleanor might just throw up (curse you Sophia Smith!).

She wants to be natural and comfortable, so she does the first and only thing she wants to do in this very moment. She smushes his face. Pushing it back and saying, “Shut up.” He scoffs at her and shoves her hand away, a scandalous look on his face, like he can't believe she did that. “How dare you! I take you to this lovely venue and you push my face!” 

He yelps quietly, not wanting to disturb the people around him getting situated for the play to begin.

“You’re so full of yourself, please.” She rolls her eyes so hard she feels a strain in them. They might pop out of her head honestly. He just makes a fake disgruntled noise back. The lights go out in less than a minute anyways. A man speaking over a loud speaker telling everyone how the evening will be going down. Intermission would be in almost an hour and a half. 

The play starts off, a colorful set before them, and three actors starting out the prologue. 

Eleanor leans all the way back against her seat, getting as comfortable as she can for right now. She knocks her ankle against Zayn's briefly before pulling her leg away. He glances over at her before focusing his attention back at the entertainment. Not before knocking her ankle right back of course though.

+

Eleanor had actually been thoroughly immersed in the detailed plotline and random singing just as intermission began, the lights turning back on and people getting up to wee or stretch. 

She leans forward and meets Zayn's eyes. “Are you liking it?” He asks, facial expression slightly hopeful and mostly worried. “No. But I am loving it.” She answers, almost giving him a heart attack in the process though (of course). “You little,” He says playfully, kicking her in her calf with his shiny black dress up shoes that makes him look like a doll almost.

“Ouch! Hasn’t anyone told you that politeness is the key to getting the lady’s attention!?” She whispers harshly, reaching her hand out and pinching him in the forearm.

He yanks his arm back forcefully, his face in complete shock. “I. Cannot. Believe.” “Oh really, you cannot?” She mimics the emphasis he put on the word cannot and she just cannot with this. It’s hilarious and very endearing, unfortunately. 

Zayn pouts, his lips jutting out and it’s all very cute, which Eleanor doesn’t really wanna deal with right now. She rubs his arm gently. “Okay, fine. I’m sorry I pinched you, it’s my fault really. I thought kryptonite was your only weakness, but apparently not.” He smirks, and accepts her apology while patting her on the knee. And so he keeps his hand there. Whatever. She didn’t even notice really (except she totally did).

The lights dim down again, and she’s slightly surprised at the fact that Zayn keeps his hand there. She can almost feel the heat radiating from his hand. It’s practically burning a hole through her bottoms. The point is, this is so very rude of him. He must know what he’s doing right now.

She slides her body forward a bit, knocking his hand up her leg a some more, settling it on her lower thigh. Her heart cringes once his thumb brushes her leg slightly, moving very slowly. She’s definitely dead inside.

\+ 

The night had ended up being shorter than she had hoped for. She wanted the play to drag on longer, and take up more than three and a quarter hours. She wanted to spend as much time with Zayn in a closed off dark space for a longer period of time.

“I’m glad I let you take me out.” She says, Zayn stopping the car in front of her flat. “I’m glad you did as well. Weren’t you just pleasantly surprised?” He asks, and his dried up humor is just the same tempo as hers. And it’s so god damn refreshing.

She lets out a breath through her nose, imitating thought. “Hmm. Don’t know yet. I’ll decide in ten to thirty days, I’ll get back to you on that Mr,” And she's mostly initiating that she wants to know his last name.

“Pleasantville.” He replies breezily, reaching his hand out, wanting to shake hands. She scoffs, and shakes his hand. Out of nothing but pity of course. “Ah, yes. Pleasantville. I think I’ve heard that before.” “May I walk you to your door Miss Eleanor?” He asks politely, his mouth cracking up into a soft smile. “No.” She replies flatly, stepping out of his car praying that he knows she’s fucking around (he’s stepping out too, so she thinks that means he does).

“I had a surprisingly refreshing time, thank you.” She speaks in a serious tone, walking in time with Zayn up to her door (shoes still clacking). They stop at the door, this first date air between them. Like, the air between them feels tense and rough, like it doesn’t know what’s going to happen either (hence, “first date air”).

Zayn reaches up, his shirt moving up his arm and bunching up at the elbow, he pushes a stray piece of her hair out of her eyes, and she thanks him with a chuckle. She almost (almost!) wants to say something outright and obvious like, “so you gonna kiss me or what?” but she knows that would be obnoxious. So she just settles for touching some random thing on him hoping he does something, anything.

She smooth’s out the collar on his shirt and gets rid of a small crinkle that’s been there the entire night (which no, she wasn’t staring at intently, she swears). He finally takes her wrists in his hands and leans down, mouth so close to hers she can feel him exhale through his nose.

“If you wanted to kiss me you could’ve just said it.” He breathes out and suddenly Eleanor’s stubborn side returns. “God, you’re so full of-" and the rudest thing that’s ever happened to her like ever happens. He like, kisses her while she was speaking.

It’s a forceful kiss. Their lips smashed together, Eleanor’s wrists still in his hands. It’s invigorating. It’s so much at once. And Eleanor thinks she could really begin to like this awful fast.

She pushes the envelope first. She opens her mouth against his ever so slightly, letting him know he can go further with the kiss. Just as to be expected he takes the opportunity in complete earnest, immediately opening his in return, their breaths mixing together (along with their spit and tongues but anyways).

It’s all very much that happened very fast, because she doesn’t exactly remember being pinned against her door, but then again that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Zayn's let her hands go and he’s decided to place one of his on her face, and the other propped up against the door, keeping him (and Eleanor) up straight. He flicks his tongue against hers, and it’s warm and messy all at once. It’s undeniably hot.

But there’s this thing going through Eleanor’s mind over and over again. “You don’t know him, you don’t even know him, you don’t know him” and it’s very annoying while she's trying to enjoy making out with him. 

She uses her now free hands to push him off of her by his shoulders. Zayn's mouth is the shade of her lipstick, and his cheeks are flushed. Its borderline obscene really.

“I need to know your last name.” She breathes out harshly, like all the oxygen in her lungs was taken from her and would never return. Zayn lets small laughs leave his open mouth. “Malik. My, uh, my last name is Malik. Sorry I just, forget to mention it. Didn’t know it was eating you alive.” She feels a lot better now, knowing that he would tell her. It’s comforting in the strangest kind of way.

“Shut up. It wasn’t ‘eating me alive’ per say. I was just, a little curious is all.” She bluffs, her voice getting higher near the end. It is just comical. He smiles, his bright teeth making a rather spectacular appearance. “Okay. Now that that’s taken care of. Would you like to grant me the honor of informing me of your name Miss Eleanor?” 

She glances at his eyes for a moment. They’re shinning bright. Almost as bright as his teeth. They’re getting glassy too, almost glazed over, looking. “Calder. Miss Eleanor Calder.” 

+

She sees Zayn four days after that, and it’s like… random or something.

“No fucking way, Tom Daley is five billion times cuter than Dustin.” Sophia yells, even though Eleanor’s sat right next to her. Eleanor rolls her eyes. “Oh god, shut the hell up. They’re like equally cute.” She says back, attitude leaving her voice.

Sophia’s eyes basically bulge out of her head. “Get the hell away from me, honestly. You’re fucking mental.”

Walker jumps up from his spot on the couch and sniffs the air, the sound of a nearby car door closing alarming him. He isn’t sent off into a barking fit until the doorbell rings, which okay, fuck you whoever’s there. Sophia groans so loud she actually makes Walker sound like he’s on mute.

They look at each other reluctantly before getting ready to begin rock paper scissors. “Rock, Paper, Scissors, Shoot.” They chant simultaneously, Eleanor whipping out the paper and beating out Sophia’s rock by a landslide.

“Fuck my life!” Sophia yells, her bun bobbing around on the top of her head like a cartoon or something. It’s adorably annoying. Annoying only because little long strands of her hair whip El in the eye when she swings her head around like that.

Eleanor watches Sophia pull herself up off of their loveseat before padding over to the door as resentfully as she can muster. She lets curiosity control her, and she watches the door open instead of the program. She gives up watching Sophia after a moment, the light coming in and the door blocking most of the view behind it keeps her from seeing anything anyways.

“Eleanor!” Sophia screams, even though they’re literally only about a yard away from each other. She’s leaning away from the door, hanging off of it like a corpse. Or just a really lazy girl (which she is). “It’s for youuu!” She yelps again, bellowing the words out from her very soul it sounds like.

She stands up slowly, popping out her elbows and letting them crack pleasantly. 

She walks over to the door, glancing around it trying to see who it is. And, surprisingly yet unsurprisingly all at once, it’s Zayn (Who, by the way, is 28 years old, and his birthday is January 12th and his favorite color is blue, and he grew up in Bradford, and Eleanor found his Facebook).

“Eleanor!” He greets her, loudly and happily. Almost like it was Christmas or something. Which would be sick because Christmas is awesome, and now Eleanor wishes it was December again but whatever. Not the point obviously.

“Zayn!” She shouts back, letting Sophia groan and shove past her to make her way back to the couch. “Um. What’re you doing here?” She asks, and it’s not like she doesn’t want him here but she was about to leave in like thirty minutes to go to her mum’s anyways.

“Nothing really, I mean. I was gonna call but I thought it’d be like cooler if I surprised you. Surprise!” She scoffs, and pushes the door open wider. “Wanna come in?” She asks, which isn’t really a big deal or anything but it kinda feels like it, right? He looks down at his phone, which is like a hint towards “no”. 

“No um, I have somewhere to be soon but, do you wanna go get coffee or something really fast?” And she’s not going to turn down coffee until she’s dead. Which won't be any time in the near future hopefully.

She sighs through her nose. “Fine you’ve convinced me to get coffee with you, strange man.” He scoffs, and holds his arm out, supposedly for her to take. She looks down at it with playful disgust. “Do I look ready to you?” “What? It’s just coffee? We’re wearing equally casual things.” And he’s right, she won’t deny that. But she didn’t exactly brush her hair out enough yet so the curls are fluffy, and kind of near the verge of frizzy. She rolls her eyes anyways, grabbing her Ray Bans off of the small end table next to the door (and it’s cluttered with random notes and keys, and even a tiny umbrella which is weird since neither Sophia nor Eleanor owns one).

Zayn's got on some sunglasses too, they’re darker and have got a wider frame, and they really suit his jean jacket for some odd reason. She takes his arm now, using him as a crutch as she steps into her sandals, trying not to fall over when bending down slightly to pull them over her heel.

+

“What do you even do?” She asks, sitting down across from him, her legs smacking the legs of the chair. “Um, stocks and things, it doesn’t matter. It’s boring.” The way he says it doesn’t make it sound like the truth, but she goes along with it. “Okay, then why do you do it?” She sips at her frappe earnestly, letting the coffee fill her throat. “Um, pays well.” It may be a simple answer, but it says everything.

It was a really hot thing to say, she guesses (then again money in general is a really hot thing). So like, they’re making out in the bathroom now. Her hair even more of a wreck then it was before, not like Zayn really cares right now mind you. 

The stalls in the men’s room feels a lot more cramped, and the toilet paper holder is riding up Eleanor’s ass, she’s really enjoying this. Zayn's got these hands you see… they’re like not too big but big enough to grip her anywhere, and they feel even more like heaven than her frappe did.

She gives up on trying to fight the toilet paper thing, and eventually climbs up Zayn to get on top of it instead of next to it, her legs wrapping around his waist. Thank god she’s wearing leggings, jeans definitely would’ve chaffed her.

He holds her up as gingerly as he can before moving his hands up, curling them into her wild hair instead. He tugs on it enough to make her feel it but not enough to piss her off, or hurt her or anything of the sort.

She shoves his jacket out of the way to mold her hands around his thin white tee. It suits him, the color white. Makes him look like this pure, untouchable angel. If only God could see him now.

She ruts up into him, like a dog or something, and it’s really desperate now that she’s thinking about it in complete…fullness?

He takes her in stride though, almost rutting back but in like a softer, less there kind of way. Like a twitch of his hips almost. Like he definitely is thinking about the fact that this was supposed to be a short coffee date, and how he’s got “somewhere to be”.

She can't help it exactly but her mouth drops open in like a weird gasping thing. Zayn just does this weird thing with his pelvis, and it feels so good that Eleanor wants to sob all over him. She almost does when he pulls back, wiping his mouth off immediately after.

“Eleanor, baby, I-I really have to go. I was supposed to be somewhere fifteen minutes ago.” He apologizes fast, but he looks so sad doing it, and he’s got a raging hard on so Eleanor wants to laugh at him like, “you’re gonna walk out of here with that?” but she doesn't. She just does one of the things she’s best at. She pouts.

He groans in deep, clear frustration. His hands coming back up to cradle her face in his hands. “Stop. Don’t do that, please. You might just convince me.” He begs, his voice all groggy and slow. It’s the most painful thing Eleanor’s ears have ever endured. 

She moves her leg up a little, brushing against his hard on lightly. He shivers, and drops his hands from her face with an exasperated sigh. “You’re gonna walk out of here like this?” She asks, and of course there’s this deep attitude saturating her whole tone of voice, but Zayn smiles anyways.

“What choice do I have love?” So Eleanor pushes him as far away as the stall walls will let her, and she slinks off of the paper holder quickly, dropping down onto the tiled floor immediately. Zayn's eyes bug out of his head, which is hilarious in every way. “No no no, Eleanor please. I’ve got to get going, like now.” He speaks out in a flourish. He sounds absolutely torn and she loves it. “Fine, go.” She speaks, shoving him away by placing a hand over his crotch and pushing down lightly in a mock shove.

Of course he knew what she was doing with that. Who wouldn’t?

He snatches up her small wrist and squeezes it, pulling it away from him. “Don’t be like that.” And she doesn't really know if he means that in a “don’t give me attitude” way or a “don’t try to seduce me” way. It might actually be both though, if you think on it.

She decides to take this further nonetheless. She pushes herself forward, her mouth connecting with his dick through his skinnies. She can feel him through them though. She does this weird mouth thing like she’s trying to nip at it, and once again, it’s weird but like, the heat from her mouth gets through and he reacts to it with a grunt and bangs his head against the stall wall in such an aggravated manner one would actually think he was getting angry with Eleanor.

“It’ll be fast, I swear.” She mumbles against him, which is probably what makes him give in. “Fine. Fine, but it has to be fast, okay?” She nods enthusiastically, so much so that it seems like she is getting to open a birthday present a day early or some shit like that. 

He leans forward a bit and unhooks his belt faster than Eleanor has ever seen anyone do before. And she just has to laugh a little bit. He lets her yank his pants down though, his face saying “it’s not gonna suck itself” and Eleanor understands completely. 

She makes a last minute decision though. She reaches towards the fly of his jeans instead of just trying to tug them down, even though they both know she could. She looks up at him, trying to see if he’ll protest, fight her on it. It actually shocks her when he flexes his hips instead, they fidget, and he just watches her, his jaw locked tight shut.

So she continued, slowly pulling his metal zipper down, making sure the back of it rubs against him the whole time. “God.” He mumbles, looking down at her still. She hadn’t really realized how much she had wanted this until now actually. Well, she’s always wanted Zayn. Just not really this much before. It kind of gives her a bit of anxiety. But in a good way. 

She pulls his jeans down after that, putting them down near his ankles, but easy enough to get so he can dash when he needs to. He’s got plain black underwear on. They’re Topman, and they’re soft, and they fit him. They’re more briefs than they are anything else, which also fits him. Like, fits him. His cock is basically a star in these pants.

She grips the band of them, her nails scratching at the skin behind them before pulling them down only a little so his cock keeps them up, which is very hilarious but she just can't bring about herself to start joking again. It took forever to get him to let her do this, and she definitely wasn’t about to throw this wonderful opportunity away.

She whips them down fast though, letting his beautiful brown cock start bobbing, basically. Which was also very hilarious but she just tried to focus on something else for a moment. If she laughed right now he’d get a very bad impression on why she was laughing, which wouldn’t be good (his cock definitely wasn’t something a normal person would laugh at anyways).

She wants to scratch at his thighs, or leave a hickey there, maybe kiss him all over, but she’s reminded (immediately) that he should be somewhere, and Zayn runs his fingers through the top of her hair, and yanks a bit, signaling to move faster.

She put on hand on his hip, keeping both him, and her as steady as she could. She used the other to angle his cock near her mouth. He groans, her cold hands sending chills all over his body, which only brought on a grin for her. The coolness of her hand only made him harder, which only made her want him even more.

The air shot out of his mouth forcefully as her tongue circled his head, the tip digging into the sensitive spot beneath. His grip on her hair tightened, and he took in another hard breath through his nose, locking his jaw tight again. 

She pulled off and blew air over the wet spot on his head, then going back in, covering the whole of his head with her lips, and letting her tongue move over him. She decided to cut the shit.

She went in as fully as she could at this point. Taking him down, her mouth keeping a neutral pressure on him. Her mouth was warm and wet, the complete opposite of her hands, and Zayn groaned, letting her lips slide down his shaft, pulling on him slightly. It was invigorating how much Eleanor could see he wanted her. 

She kept her eyes open, looking up at him as her mouthed moved, her tongue running over his leaking slit every time it had the chance. He got so wet so fast and that made Eleanor wet, she could feel it in her leggings.

Zayn met her eyes a second after, yanking on her hair at the sight, causing Eleanor to hum a moan over his cock, sending shivers through him yet again. It wasn’t too long before Zayn began to roll his hips, snapping himself back into her mouth with a tiny grunt. 

“God, Eleanor-" She pulled up, stopping him mid-sentence, and he looked so angry and offended. It was beautiful. “Harder. Go harder.” She spoke, her lips wet and swelling, her voice sounding only the slightest bit scratchy though.

He nods, face getting flushed. “Want me to fuck your throat then?” Like he even needed to clarify that. He just wanted to hear a yes. “Yeah, want it.” She answers, going back in, closing her eyes tight. He sighs and slams his head back into the wall. He moves his hand around and re-grips her hair, getting a more established reign.

His hips began again where they left off, tiny thrusts and rolls before Eleanor’s rhythm had begun again as well, her mouth covering almost all of him. He began to finally just fuck up into her, fists full of her hair, moving her head in the exact place he wanted it.

She could feel him hit the back of her throat with every thrust and loud groan. “Oh fuck, Eleanor.” He spoke lowly, not trusting his voice most likely. 

Little beads of salty tears barred Eleanor’s vision every time she opened her eyes, so she just kept them shut, enjoying the sweet pain she felt in her throat. It was so addicting, the pain she felt and the want she had. She just wanted him to fuck her mouth as rough as he wanted.

She moved her head back and forth, meeting his hips halfway, spit just messily sliding over his cock, and maybe some of it was precum too, but either way it was a wet mess down there. 

She moved her hands to his waist, digging her nails into his skin, leaving marks in the shape of deep crescents into his skin there. She felt almost like she was marking him, which just gave her more and more adrenaline. 

“Fuck, I- Fucking!” He whisper-yells, kind of. It’s a murmured shout, and it’s deep and hot, and it’s almost like a warning, or maybe a compliment? Either way his thrusts were sporadic. They were quick yet shallow, so his cock didn’t hit the very back of her throat every time now. Barely brushed it. 

She swallowed around him, a bunch of different flavors mixing together. Most of which were potent and rough. He pulled her off of his cock by her hair and her lips being torn away made a slight popping sound. She breathed out hard, but looked at him with daggers in her eyes. He reached all the way down and swiped his thumb across her cheek, almost like he was thanking her or something. 

He straightens out again after that, tugging at himself forcefully, and quickly. Which must mean he didn’t wanna blow down her throat, which would’ve been hot. So Eleanor takes this opportunity to lean as close to his cock as she can without him accidentally punching her in the face, and she opens her mouth as wide as she can, and stares at his cock expectantly.

He at least takes the hint and angles himself down, lining up his cock and her bottom lip. “You look so good like this Eleanor. Beautiful.” He praises and she can basically feel her head swell at these small compliments. 

It’s only a couple tugs more before he climaxes, his mouth dropping open and his eyes shutting, and his cum shooting out over Eleanor’s lips like confetti (very timid confetti but still). She waits for him to re-open his eyes before she licks at her lips like it’s icing (which is cliché and almost gross but the more overwhelmed Zayn gets the harder her heart thumps in her chest). 

He sighs, taking in panting, odd breaths, like his throat is closing around him (like he’s the one who gave head). He stretches his hand out, offering to help her up and she takes it, despite both of their hands being sweaty and sticky with (not so) mysterious fluids. 

Her knees pop, and she stretches her legs out, pulling at the muscles. Zayn does his own form of stretching and reaches down to pull both of his pants back up. Before anything can be said Eleanor's phone goes off, bringing them both down from this odd cloud. She looks down at her bag before looking back up at Zayn who tells her to answer. “Go ahead, I’ve got to dash now anyways, love.” He pulls her face to his with his pointer finger, and kisses her tenderly, their lips only sliding together for three more phone rings.

“I assume you’ll let me pick you up for dinner on Saturday?” He asks, cocking an eyebrow at her. She scoffs, and reaches down to grab her bag. “How very confident of you?” She says, voice embarrassingly wrecked. He watches as she fumbles around for her phone before finally finding it after the rings have stopped.

“So is that a yes?” He asks, checking his own phone for the time most likely. She returns her attention to him before checking her missed call. She grins, “I guess you’ll find out then.” She supplies, not taking her eyes off of his. 

He rolls his, and it’s mostly playful. “Fine, I’ll call you. Or maybe I won’t. Maybe I’ll just show up since this ‘coffee date’ turned out so well.” He says, pulling his sun glasses over his. “Your hair’s so fucked by the way.” He whispers before pecking her on the lips once more and making his way out of their tiny space. She watches after him but stays in the stall, her back leaned up against the wall. 

She finally looks at her phone, seeing two texts and one missed call from Sophia. She just pushes return call, and walks over towards the sinks, phone cradled between her ear and shoulder as she washes her hands thoroughly.

“Finally!” Sophia shouts over the line, sounding absolutely and utterly diva-ish right now. Eleanor rolls her eyes, grabbing some paper towels from the automatic dispenser, and drying her hands off. “God, what?” She replies, and the exasperated sound was mostly towards herself. Zayn was right. Her hair was fucked, each strand was going in a different direction.

“I’ve texted you and you haven't answered. I assume you’ve been with that hotty the whole time, doing only god knows.” She can hear Sophia’s annoyance, and this must mean Sophia has been waiting to ask Eleanor for something. What else could it be?

Eleanor pats down her hair a couple times, and then just decides there’s zero point in trying with it. It’s a loss.

“Well are you gonna get on with telling me what you want from me or are you going to keep complaining?” She asks, zipping her bag up. “Well… If you insist. I would like to formally ask you if I could pretty pretty please borrow the car this weekend! Please!”

Eleanor can’t say no.

+

Though technically nothing was arranged, and Zayn hadn’t called yet or anything like that, Eleanor woke up early Friday morning (which was an off day because of cutbacks or something) and started picking out an outfit for dinner tomorrow.

“Sophia, normally I wouldn’t say this before noon but I need your help.” Eleanor pouted, waving hangers with some shirts on them in front of her friends face. Ever since she and Liam worked things out, things were officially back to normal. A.K.A Sophia was a drone clone of herself, programmed only to text Liam back.

Eleanor tapped her foot impatiently, trying to get Sophia’s attention, which is a rare thing so Sophia should honestly be thankful for this current moment in time. Sophia rolled her head to the side, finally acknowledging Eleanor’s existence.

“What?” She snapped, her eyes flaring with annoyance, honestly very funny actually. Eleanor scoffed, waving the shirts around again. “Um, yes, earth to undead Sophia Smith, can you fucking help me?” She asks for the twelfth time in a five minute span.

“With what?” She asks, completely and utterly oblivious. Eleanor cocks her hip and tilts her head to the side. “Well, hmm, I’m not fucking sure. I mean I’ve only asked about a billion times?” She snaps, growing more irritated with Sophia than she’s been in a long time.

After a second of her staring blankly at Eleanor, she groans, throwing her head back. “Sophia! I need help picking out a top for my date!” She whines, stomping her feet on the floor just as a toddler throwing a tantrum would. “You have a date? With who?” 

Eleanor just shakes her head, staring at a random corner of the room, looking away from Sophia so the urge to strangle her goes down. “With Zayn! The guy I was with Tuesday afternoon getting coffee?” She clarifies, and Sophia’s eyes widen, like it just now clicked together in her head.

“Oh! The one you blew.” “Yes Soph, the one I blew.” “That one.” She replies dully, pointing to a plain black, thin strapped camisole. Eleanor glances down at it, and Sophia returns immediately to her cell phone, texting Liam back most likely. It’s nice and easy, and even though Sophia might not have seemed interested she wouldn’t normally bullshit Eleanor on clothes, so she has no choice but to trust her on this.

She nods at her friend, approving of her choice (though she’s not looking at her anyways). “Thanks I guess.” She mumbles, scoffing at her before heading back for the stairs. “Guess I’ll pick out the rest by myself!” She yells, stepping up the first three steps slowly. She rolls her eyes when Sophia only nods. 

“Guess I’ll… drive myself to the hospital since I’m going to throw myself down these stairs!” She yells again, Sophia only nodding in response. She sneers down at her, a glare in her green eyes. She basically lives with a robot. Wow. Technology is so advanced these days, it’s amazing.

Eleanor threw the rest of the shirts down on her bed and put the camisole with the jeans that she picked out. The only thing she really needed was shoes, and maybe a necklace and some rings or something. She’s basically just praying that Zayn thinks she looks good. That is the goal for Eleanor at this moment.

She picks her phone up from her bed and opens a new text for him. ‘So how about that dinner you promised me tomorrow? :) xx’ She sent, holding her breath for some odd reason. Zayn had somehow managed to make her feel like she was in middle school all over again. Asshole.

She got a reply from him a minute later, which was faster than she expected. She thought he was going to be busy doing bonds, or whatever he said he did with money (still hot). ‘Tomorrow night at 7 ;)’ Eleanor didn’t even have to respond, he was cute and confident and it made her chest swell with some weird affection, and she’s got a fucking crush on him, so obviously he knows she’ll be okay with whatever time he picks. Asshole.

+

If Eleanor had a dollar every time Zayn showed up and Sophia screamed Eleanor’s name to let her know he was there she’d now have three whole dollars. Truly amazing.

“Shut up!” She yells back, walking down the stairs while looking down at her feet. She’s not trying to fall in front him so soon. That’s a fifth date type of embarrassment. After reaching the bottom she finally looks up at him. He’s got that same bright smile he’s got every time she sees him. 

“You look beautiful.” He compliments, reaching his arm out and gently pulling her towards him with a hand on her lower back. She lets him pull her against him and he pecks her lips lightly, her eyes fluttering closed regardless. His lips are warm and they feel like him, if that makes any sense.

She pulls away after Sophia groans. Eleanor shoots her a glare and Sophia rolls her eyes at her before turning away completely and padding back into the living room, not looking back at them once. Zayn slides his hand from her back and slips it into hers. “Bye! If I’m not back by eleven call the police!” She screams, watching Sophia’s face for a reaction.

Zayn chokes down a laugh beside her and tugs her towards the door. “Go away!” Sophia yells back, plopping down on the loveseat and snatching the TV remote up. Eleanor sighs and slams the door shut behind her and Zayn. “I’ll have you home by ten fifteen.” He says, holding his passenger door open for her to step inside.

“She won’t be worried anyways.” She replies, a bitter laugh leaving her lips. Zayn shakes his head with one of his damned bright smiles. Curse you Zayn Malik, curse you.

+

“And what happened?” “Well I punched him, obviously.” Zayn replies with a scoff, and he sips a bit of his wine. Eleanor lurches forward, laughing at his answer. Eleanor knows he looks like a badass or something but she didn’t take Zayn for a fighter. Probably because he was a sweetheart. Or at least what she saw of him so far was.

Zayn smiles into his glass before setting it down, his hand lying on top of Eleanor’s. “Don’t look at me all sappy Batman.” She snaps, tone lacking any and all malice though. “So I’m officially Batman now, huh?” She picks up her own wine glass and brings it to her lips, sipping at it. She nods, setting it back down on the table afterwards. “Yes, I’ve decided. You’re too good to be Superman.”

He nods, playing along with her, as usual. 

She stretches her leg out carefully, running her ankle up his calf, and she’s going to pretend the wine is making her all touchy feely. Yes, the wine. It is making her all warm after all. Or maybe that was Zayn? Either way she was getting buzzed on something.

+

Zayn walks her up to her door again, both of them standing there and it feels the same as it did after their first date. Nervously exciting. Eleanor wrapped her arms around his middle, sliding them inside of his jacket. He smiled at her, pulling her closer by her slim waist. 

Eleanor opened her mouth to speak before just biting her tongue again. She wanted him to come inside, wanted him to stay over or something dumb like that. Or at least watch a movie on Netflix with her maybe. She almost felt like that would be too average of a thing for Zayn (yes, she knows that’s ridiculous).

“What’s wrong?” He asks after she stays silent. She looks back up at him, returning from some weird day dream state. “Nothing?” She replies, trying to cover her nervousness with a smile. He drops one of his hands from her waist and runs it between her eyebrows, smoothing out some lines there. “Clearly not.” He smiles crookedly at her, trying to be patient.

She sighs before shaking her head. “Nothing, I swear.” She drops her hands from his sides, and pushes her door open, not surprised Sophia has it unlocked. “Wanna come in? Watch a movie or something?” She asks, sounding hopeful and maybe even verging on desperate (not like she cares).

Zayn smiles at her, that same bright smile and nods, stepping forward into Eleanor’s foyer. 

“There you are!” Eleanor flinches after locking the door shut behind them. She turns and looks at a currently pouty, half-naked Sophia standing there with her hands on her hips (wearing nothing but a tank top and underwear). 

Eleanor’s mouth drops and Zayn turns his whole body around, looking anywhere other than Sophia, of course not without biting down on his lip, trying so hard not to laugh (which makes Eleanor try really hard not to burst out laughing as well).

“Sophia! What are you doing?” Eleanor yells back, a laugh following even though she was trying so hard not to. It causes a chain reaction, Zayn leaning over and laughing really, really hard, his whole body shaking with it. “Oh please, looking the way he does he’s seen a woman in underwear before.” She replies, rolling her eyes and impatiently waiting for Zayn to stop cracking up.

“Anyways!” She shouts over them, stomping a foot on the tiled floor. “I shaved Walker.” She says over them, and Eleanor immediately stops laughing and looks up at Sophia, trying to search her roommate’s eyes for sarcasm, or a joke, or anything that would make her statement not true.

Eleanor clutches her heart after a minute of Sophia not laughing or giving in or anything. “No! You’re kidding!” She yelps, and Zayn stands up straight again, grabbing onto Eleanor’s arm just in case she topples over from shock. Or a fucking stroke.

Sophia shakes her head, pointing in the direction of the upstairs bathroom. “Nope, not joking.” She spits, making the “p” in nope pop. Eleanor wants to fucking strangle her again. “The one time you do something other than text Liam, you… you fucking try to shave the dog!? Shouldn’t you start out with simple things like, feeding him? Or walking him?” Eleanor yelps, getting ready to sprint towards the stairs.

Sophia scoffs, “Excuse me. This isn’t a bad thing! You’re supposed to be proud. You’re supposed to praise me! I think I did beautifully, If I do fucking say so myself! And I’ll prove it! I’m gonna go finish up right now and you’ll see! You’ll all fucking see!” Sophia spits, stomping towards the stairs, and back to work on her… masterpiece.

Zayn sighs and shakes his head, as if reading Eleanor’s mind. “She did awfully didn’t she?” He asks, looking over at Eleanor who stood there with a blank stare. She eventually nods, sighing as well. “Yes, yes she probably did. I’m surprised she didn’t accidentally cut his damn ear off.”

Zayn shrugs, following Eleanor to the couch. “Well it’s not too late for that.” He smiles at Eleanor’s glare. Honestly Zayn is such a little instigator and Eleanor can’t help but find it adorable for some reason.

Zayn slung his arm around Eleanor’s shoulders as she grabbed the remote, looking at the guide to see if anything was on before going to Netflix. “Oh, look. The Notebook.” Eleanor mocked, immediately followed by Zayn’s fake gagging sound. Eleanor looks over at him, staring at him seriously. “Sounds like me in the men’s room Tuesday.” Zayn sputtered, laughing loudly, like he didn’t expect his laugh to slip out.

After calming down he returns her serious gaze, “You’re right though.” She scoffs, flicking his chest before returning to scrolling down the guide. She groans before shoving the remote in Zayn’s free hand and stretching out, laying her head on his shoulder. “You do it.” She whines, turning her face and hiding it in his neck. She's given up on this bullshit.

“Okay, lazy.” He chuckles, nudging his jaw against her forehead lightly before taking over the very important responsibility of looking for something to watch. 

Eleanor puckers her lips slightly, kissing random spots on his throat, making loud and obnoxious smacking sounds while doing so. He giggles quietly and runs his free hand down her back, caressing her gently. Eleanor originally planned on being as annoying as possible but now she just wants his attention (which is the same thing actually if you think about it hard enough).

“Ew.” Eleanor and Zayn look over to see Sophia, who has a wiggling towel in her hands, most likely containing a certain little puppy Eleanor knows. “Anyways, Eleanor, hot guy whose name I forgot, this is it. The unveiling of a masterpiece!” She yells dramatically. Zayn fake coughs and covers his mouth, trying to hide his smile.

“Zayn.” “What?” Sophia asks, looking at Eleanor like she’s fucking mental. Eleanor rolls her eyes and points to Zayn. “His name is Zayn.” Sophia scoffs, angry at Eleanor for interrupting her. “Whatever, anyways, this is what I like to call, ‘doggy style’.” She smiles, watching Zayn and Eleanor crack up a bit.

“This is going to be fantastic I can already tell.” Zayn muses, smiling so wide it looks like his face might split in half. Eleanor on the other hand is holding her breath and preparing to jump up and murder Sophia with her bare hands. It had cost so much money to get this dog professionally shampooed, and here Sophia was, shaving him.

Sophia rips the towel off, and reveals the happy dog. Who, definitely should not be happy. Zayn folds himself all the way forward and screams some very loud laughs into his legs. Sophia’s got a proud smile on her face like she was Pablo fucking Picasso and she had just revealed another million dollar painting.

Walker was shaved all the way down in some parts to where you can see the pink of his skin, clearly not sitting still for Sophia, while his head, paws, and tail were still full of fur. Sophia had apparently tried to shave him like a Poodle. Though clearly she wouldn’t be getting a job as a groomer any time in the near future.

“Sophia…” Eleanor began, smacking Zayn on the arm and looking back at her friend. “This,” “Go on.” Sophia encouraged, her face looking smug. “This looks like shit.” Sophia’s mouth dropped and Zayn finally sat back up wiping a stray tear from his face.

She placed the dog down and pointed at Eleanor, her face scrunched up and her mouth curled down, her permanent scowl returning yet again.

“Screw you, I’m moving out!”

**Author's Note:**

> No beta all mistakes to us.


End file.
